A Penchant for Redheads
by AshenGray
Summary: After Hermione's and Ron's marriage falls apart, Hermione doesn't think she'll find anyone ever again until she meets one George Weasley. Unwilling to fall in love again, Hermione resists. And how can intelligent, witty George ever like her, anyways?
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: Birth Control, Veela, and A Forbidden Word**

"Hermione. Let's take you off the birth control."

This sentence, Hermione Granger mulled, was probably the sentence that pushed hers and Ron's marriage over the edge.

The now-single, ringless Hermione Granger sat on a park bench, wondering where her life had gone wrong. She was only twenty-five. Eight years had passed since the dreadful battle at Hogwarts, and she had gone on to become the Head of the Liberation of Magical Creatures. Through much hard work (after all, she _was _the most brilliant witch of her year), and admittedly some help from her fame as being part of The Three Who Had Defeated Voldemort And Had Done Countless Other Impossible Crap, she had finally become a very notable figure in the Ministry of Magic. Although Ron protested that this job overtaxed her and left no time for him, Hermione felt happy like this. She'd always liked work, and she knew how much she could handle. (She still remembered her stress from her third year at Hogwarts with the time-turner and strove to never take _that_ much work up ever again).

Hermione considered herself at her prime—with a wonderful job but still young in a peaceful world that she, Harry, and Ron had created. Apparently, Ron didn't think so, though. It seemed that he was desperate to have kids. Though never being someone who liked children, he somehow felt the need to live up to his parents' legacy of having seven children. And to Hermione's horror, they had to start _now_.

"_But Ron, I can't possibly take off the birth control!" _She'd squeaked.

"_Hermione, it's just a wave of your wand, a simple incantation! I don't see what's wrong!" _He'd argued.

"_That's not the point, Ron; I have a job! I can't possibly just leave my place at the Ministry! Having children would…well, stop me from working!" _It wasn't that Hermione disliked kids. On the contrary, she loved them. But she was willing to wait for a few more years; and besides, if she had kids, she knew Ron would never take care of them.

"_So? Mum's a great witch and she stopped working too…come on, Hermione, don't you want kids too? If we wait until you're past thirty, then it'll be too late! How will we have seven children like Mum and Dad?"_

Hermione had opened her mouth, thunderstruck. _"How dare you, Ronald! If you'd like to give seven births and stop working forever, I'd be happy to research male pregnancies!" _This particular last statement by Ron had really made Hermione mad. She'd never wanted seven kids (two was fine) and the fact that Ron had always assumed that she would give birth to seven infuriated her.

This had led to the worst fight with Ron in Hermione's whole life. For six whole months, they'd ignored each other. The wedding was postponed.

And then…

Ron left one night after yet another month of silence. Hermione knew that Harry had invited Ron to a drink at the Three Broomsticks in what was equivalent to a Muggle bachelor party. Harry was getting married in a week, and Hermione couldn't have been happier for him and Ginny. About the party, Hermione wasn't worried, either; she knew Harry would never invite any less-than-dignified witches. He had very strong values when it came to marriage, probably influenced by his parents.

That was why Hermione only started to worry when Ron didn't come back the next day. Hermione left for work, still wondering where he was. When she didn't him in the Auror office, or having a quick fly with Harry above the Ministry, she was perplexed. Hermione decided to Apparate to Harry's office late mid-morning.

Harry looked up from where he was outlining a training handout, his hair looking a little messier than usual. "Hello, Hermione," he greeted, idly flicking his wand and making a few sparks shoot out from the end. Hermione knew that Harry often got bored sitting at his desk, but he also flew on his Silver Firebolt Arrow on the British International Quidditch Team and went to practices daily, so it balanced out.

"Hello, Harry!" She said, smiling. "D'you know where Ron is?"

A suddenly guilty expression flashed over Harry's face. "He'll be home in a while, don't worry about it, Hermione."

Hermione knew he was keeping something from her, and she bit her lip. And why had he said, 'don't worry about it'?

"Harry, if it's about Ron, don't keep anything from me."

"No, no, I'll handle it." His voice was firm. "Why don't you go visit Ginny? I think she's dying to get Mrs. Weasley off her as for the wedding preparations."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Harry was deliberately trying to get her away. Why? But in any case, she was due for a visit. "Alright. I expect Ron will be back tonight, anyways." She left, closing the door with a click.

Inside the office, Harry sagged with relief. "Damn Ron…" he cursed. Harry looked under his desk to see a still-sleeping Ron snoring, his red hair in disarray. "Wake up!" Harry said, shoving the red-head.

Ron made a grunting sound. "Wha—whassa matter, Harry?"

"Get up, you idiot! Hermione just came over—what am I supposed to say to her?"

Ron's eyes opened. He suddenly looked much more awake. "I dunno." He looked down.

"Don't you think you should tell her?" Harry glared at him.

Ron looked sulky. " 'S not my problem, anyways. Not my fault if she refuses to even be in the same bed with me."

"Not your fault?" Harry stared at him incredulously. "What the hell is wrong with you? If this keeps going the way you're letting it go, then Hermione really will leave!"

Ron scowled. "I told you, it's not my problem!"

"Then I'll tell her." Harry growled, slamming his hand on the desk and knocking over all the papers on his desk.

Cursing, Harry muttered, "Accio papers!" The papers zoomed together in a pile.

"You stay here," he ordered Ron. "_I'll _tell Hermione." Then with a slam of the door, Harry was out. He knew that he usually kept out of his friends' squabbles, but he couldn't believe how selfish Ron was being. Pity rose in his heart for Hermione.

Hermione was still walking down the corridor, no doubt going outside to Apparate.

"Wait—Hermione!"

Hermione turned around, confusion in her eyes. "Harry? What's the matter?"

"I-I…" Harry swallowed. "I think it's best if we go somewhere private to talk."

A few minutes later, Harry was sitting outside the Ministry on a park bench, Hermione next to him. "What's the matter, Harry?" She asked again.

"Look, Hermione…you know that Ron, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Fred, George, and Percy came last night with me to have a few drinks, right?"

"Right." Hermione nodded.

He looked at her nervously as if expecting her to blow up. "There were some rather…scantily clad witches there last night—of course, I didn't mean to go when they were there, and anyways I didn't anticipate a problem…"

Harry was being overly long-winded. "What is it?" Hermione asked impatiently. "What happened?"

Harry did not meet her eyes. "Last night, those witches—I think they were part-veela—started dancing, and Madame Rosmerta was among them."

A horrible sense of dread started to crawl into Hermione's stomach. "And?"

"Well, you know Ron's hopeless with veela –"

_And he likes Rosmerta_, Hermione thought bitterly.

"—and he got a little…carried away last night."

Harry faltered, but then plunged on. "Ron said that he'd gone to go get a drink, so we didn't pay much attention to him, but then Ron didn't come back for a while." Harry nervously cleaned his glasses.

"So then," Harry continued, his voice unusually gentle, "I looked for Ron and he was…he was…" Harry's face twisted in an expression of revulsion.

"He was lying in bed with Rosmerta." Hermione whispered. Her heart did not stop. She did not cry. All she felt was empty, empty, empty.

She looked bleakly at Harry, who looked hopelessly back. Hermione imagined what happened—Harry giving an enraged shout, Ron and Rosmerta tumbling out of the bed, Ron naked with another woman…

"I—well, we were drunk, and Ron wasn't the only one who was losing control—Seamus got up and started to dance with those women…and…"

Harry stopped. Those weren't excuses for why Ron had done it, and he knew Hermione didn't think so either.

"I'm so sorry, 'Mione," he whispered. "So, so, sorry."

And Hermione sat there, her head on Harry's shoulder, her face free of tears. She could not bring herself to cry. They sat there for an hour, two hours, but Harry did not complain.

Hermione finally got up, feeling lightheaded. "Why does this happen to me?" She finally sobbed, a hysterical note to her voice. "Always! Harry, why can't I just die?"

Harry gently steadied her. "I'll help you Apparate home." She did not argue, only linked arms with him. In a flourish they were off.

When Hermione got home, she slowly and methodically blasted each and every one of Ron's possessions apart. Harry watched her, and didn't try to stop her.

Two weeks later, Hermione found herself on a park bench, two suitcases at her feet, reminiscing about the end of hers and Ron's marriage. There was no ring on her finger.

_To be continued._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1: Mrs. Weasley's Wrath**

Hermione did not visit the Burrow for the next few days. Indeed, Mrs. Weasley kept sending her owls with letters that asked her, in a rather anxious tone of voice, if she was feeling well and if she would like to come to the Burrow and have dinner.

Hermione replied to these letters in a hearty voice that did not sound like her. She assured Mrs. Weasley that she was just taking a bit of time off, and that no, Mrs. Weasley did not need to scold Ron.

Ron. Hermione still could not believe that after all this time, after all they'd been through together...that he'd still sleep with another woman. Hermione resolved never to see such an unfaithful man ever again-or even just another man. Men, in her opinion, were nothing better than heartbreaking gits.

One day, however, as Hermione lay listlessly in her new and unfurnished cottage somewhere in France, Errol zoomed in the window with yet another letter from Mrs. Weasley. It read,

"Dear Hermione,  
>I do hope you are well. Please come to dinner tonight at the Burrow, dear! Ron's been absolutely awful lately; he refuses to talk to any of us. If you two have had a lover's spat, I really do understand.<br>Not much has been going on here. Harry and Ginny are still on their honeymoon (and you and Ginny really looked gorgeous during the wedding!); I think they've gone to Switzerland. Percy says that he's finally bought his ring for Penelope! I can't wait, they do make such a wonderful couple.  
>Kingsley says he might be retiring soon-and the person he has in mind is Dean Thomas, out of all people! Dean seems to be a respectable boy; why I think he even dated Ginny in the past.<br>Anyhow, I'm making a soup tonight that will cure most common ailments, so do come to dinner!  
>Love,<br>Molly Weasley"

Hermione stared at the letter before setting it on her desk, sighing deeply. Mrs. Weasley simply would not leave her alone-and every time she sent Hermione another letter, Hermione's heart broke a little more. She loved Mrs. Weasley like second mother, she really did. But she wasn't sure how the kindly lady would react to hers and Ron's break. It seemed that Ron still hadn't told his mother.

Hermione also remembered far too well how cold Mrs. Weasley had been to her when she suspected of her cheating on Harry or Ron. It hurt Hermione how little Mrs. Weasley trusted her, and even now, Hermione doubted if Mrs. Weasley would take her word over Ron's.

It didn't seem Hermione could avoid this any longer, though. She picked out a nice coat and dress for dinner, and flopped back down on the bed, ignoring her weekly subscription of Advanced Transfiguration lying somewhere under her buttocks. She had a nasty sense that the dinner tonight would not be pretty.

6:00 PM: Weasley Household

Hermione shivered as she Apparated into the snow. It was winter at the Burrow, and although the Burrow looked like a gingerbread house in the freezing cold, Hermione would've rather stayed outside.

Mrs. Weasley poked her head outside the frosty door, looking all the world like an overlarge elf. "Come in, come in, Hermione!"

Hermione managed a sort of weak smile, then stepped inside, shaking the snow from her hat. It seemed that everyone had come tonight, she thought rather miserably. Luckily, Harry and Ginny were off in Switzerland on their honeymoon doing their own thing, but she didn't really want to think about their happy marriage.

She glanced around. Bill and Fleur, by now in their mid-thirties and raising two kids, waved at her, beaming. Hermione noticed that Bill no longer had the ponytail he used to, but his shaggy hair still reached shoulder length. "Mum made me cut it for the kids," he said sheepishly, scratching his head. Fleur looked rather put out by this statement.

Percy was there with his hopefully-soon-to-be fiance, Penelope Clearwater, a very pretty girl. Hermione thought he looked rather nervous, and that he looked slightly more dressy than usual.

Hermione had no time to ponder Percy's dressing, however, before she was interrupted by a crowd of people jostling toward her.

"Hey, pass the butterbeer, Diggle! You've had it long enough!"

"Don't see why you need it, Aberforth, all you need is goat-"

Aberforth took a good-natured swipe at the excitable Dedalus Diggle.

"Now now, Aberforth, Dedalus," said Minerva McGonagall in a disapproving voice. Hermione couldn't help but smile at her professor, who didn't look a day older than when Hermione had first seen her in Tranfisguration.

Mundungus Fletcher trailed behind with Arabella Figg, arguing-"Now, Arabella, I was just investing in some Doxie venom, no harm in-"

"No harm in?" Mrs. Figg swatted at Mundungus with her purse. "Hmph, young man, seems like you have much to learn yet..."

Hermione then saw Kingsley Shackleboat chatting with Mr. Weasley, and decided that before any other people came, she'd have to take her leave-now.

"Erm...Mrs. Weasley..." she attempted to get Mrs. Weasley's attention. "I...er...don't feel...well..."

"Ah, Hermione!" Said Mrs. Weasley boisterously, seemingly not hearing Hermione's weak complaint. "Excellent, please sit next to Ron, there."

Hermione's heart seemed to plummet into a region below her chest. At one end of the table sat Ron, who looked at home and was chatting with George. An icy shot of jealousy (how could Ron be so normal after what he'd done?) and rage shot through Hermione, but she had no choice. She walked reluctantly over to Ron and threw her bag down.

Ron looked up to see who had arrived-and flinched as he saw Hermione's glaring face. George abruptly fell silent.

Hermione sat there, steaming, until Mrs. Weasley's trilling voice alerted her. "Well, everybody, please enjoy dinner!"

"It looks delicious, Molly," Kingsley said approvingly at the five course dinner Mrs. Weasley had enchanted to float onto the table.

Mrs. Weasley blushed, but waved the compliment off. "Please, everyone, just dig in."

Hermione kept her head down, her every sense electrified to three times their normal sensitivity. She could feel every brush of Ron's elbow, could hear his breathing, could hear his occasional words to Percy next to him...

She wanted to get out of this stifling atmosphere she alone was feeling. The soup was tasteless in her numb mouth.

"Hey, Hermione." Hermione blinked. George was grinning at her from her other side. "You look like you need to cheer up."

"Thanks," Hermione muttered sourly.

"Hey, no harm done, right?" He winked. "Anyway, I don't suppose anyone told you, but, Charlie found a girlfriend!"

Hermione choked on her soup. "WHAT?" Charlie Weasley, notorious bachelor and heartthrob in most of Romania, had actually started to settle down?

George started to snigger. "I know, right? She's a dragon tamer too! And guess what his girlfriend's name is."

Hermione shrugged.

"Florabella!"

Hermione started to snigger too. A dragon tamer named Florabella? For some reason this struck her as enormously funny, and she started to laugh.

She thought, somewhere in the back of her mind, why couldn't she ever laugh with Ron like this? Why couldn't Ron ever show some tact, and cheer her up when she felt lonely?

Hermione took a long swig from her butterbeer. She was starting to feel reckless, with the butterbeer and suppressed rage pounding through her veins. She thought wildly, for a moment, that she'd like to kiss George and show Ron what a prat he was.

Then she saw Mrs. Weasley looking concernedly at her, and the feeling died away, leaving Hermione with only shame. She couldn't believe she had just thought about something like that; but yet, hadn't Ron done much worse? Jealousy at Ron's carefree attitude and shame at herself made her put down the butterbeer bottle. Why did Ron have to ruin her life like this? And why, why did she still feel so attached to Ron, why did she still have a flutter every time she saw his fiery red hair moving toward her?

It was time, she thought, to put down her foot and make it clear that she had to leave.

She attempted to catch Mrs. Weasley's eye, but Mrs. Weasley jumped up and started to bustle around, ladling soup into everyone's bowls.

"Hermione, dear, would you like more soup?"

Hermione managed a weak smile. "Er...no, Mrs. Weasley, actually, I've really got to talk to you-"

"Splendid! Have you and Ron started the wedding arrangements yet?" Mrs. Weasley cut across her, beaming. "And if Ron is being, well, somewhat unhelpful, I'm always here to help!"  
>Hermione swallowed. This was worse than she feared. "Actually, Mrs. Weasley...can we talk in private?"<p>

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Oh, no, dear, it's far too crowded for anyone to overhear."

Hermione's heart sank. "But, Mrs. Weasley..."  
>"What's wrong, Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley peered at her.<p>

"Look, I...I...well, Ron and I are..."

Just then, Percy let out a very girlish shriek as a horde of centipedes sprung out of his mashed potatoes. "GEORGE!" He bellowed, much to the delight of his girlfriend, Penelope.

Would the world never let her get her word out? Hermione decided to go for it. "Mrs. Weasley, Ron and I are breaking up!"

This came out much louder than she intended. The whole table, who had been laughing uproariously only moments before, fell silent.

"W-What?" Mrs. Weasley stared at Hermione in disbelief. "Dear, don't say things like that...it can't possibly be true..."

"I'm really sorry." Hermione bowed her head, trying not to look in Mrs. Weasley's eyes.

"But...I don't understand why, I'm sure that whatever Ron or you have done-"

"HE CHEATED ON ME!" Hermione's nerves had snapped at last. "THE LYING, FILTHY...HE SLEPT WITH ROSMERTA!"

Vindication spread across Hermione-at last, everyone would know what a horrible person Ron was. She glanced at him, and saw that he had turned deathly white.

Kingsley stood up.

Mrs. Weasley sank to the floor, clutching her heart. "No...Ronald...he couldn't have possibly done something like that...you didn't, Ronald..." she looked beseechingly at Ron.

Ron shrank down into his chair, his whole face now red. "I-I-I'm sorry, Hermione, Mum..."

Mrs. Weasley took this as a kind of death sentence. She gasped as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Oh, I can't believe this, I just can't believe...Arthur..."

But Mr. Weasley was looking at Ron with a sort of disgust in his face. "Ron. How could you do this...to your mother and I, to everyone, to Hermione?"

Ron looked defiantly around. "Hey-but-Hermione started it! She started ignoring me and I wasn't in the best state-it was only once, can't you guys just forgive me?"

The room was silent, only interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's sobs. "Oh...I can't believe...oh..."  
>Kingsley strode over to Mrs. Weasley. "Molly...let's get you to your room..."<p>

Then he looked at Hermione. "I'm so sorry. Please, it would be best for you to leave right now."

He glared at Ron. "You stay here. I'll have words with you after this."

Hermione tripped numbly out of the room. Percy had his arm around Penelope, looking stunned. Hermione noticed, suddenly with a rush of guilt, that he was holding a small box. Had he planned to propose to Penelope tonight? Dedalus Diggle and Mrs. Figg were shaking their heads. Aberforth's pipe had gone out, yet it still hung slack in his mouth. Professor McGonagall looked furious. Even Mundungus Fletcher was frozen.

But what unnerved Hermione was the look on George's face-a shocked sort of disbelief, anger rising in it. And his fists, Hermione saw, frightened, were balled into fists.

She ran outside, tears suddenly obscuring her vision. Now everyone was bound to be so mad at her-and Mrs. Weasley...oh, poor Mrs. Weasley.

With a crack, she Disapparated, feeling that this had been even worse than she had ever expected.

**I'm glad that people are story alerting this, but please do review.**


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